*openly Weeps*

My toxic trait is that I genuinely think I could be friends with Damian Wayne 😶

This man looks strong enough to hug my depression away like SIR

Future Raph with a massive Warhammer because as much as I love the sais, the idea of him destroying enemies with a weapon as large as he is would be SO awesome

Settled

This is a little somethin somethin inspired after this post by @mrabubu. Happy Really Late Birthday?

ANyHoO please listen to this song to set the mood

”So that's what I want to give them, as many forms of softness as I can.

Because everyone should have a little softness in their lives.

Including you, anon-chan.

And even if it has to be secret, even if it's just between you and four walls, I hope you do find some time to be soft.” ~ @luckycharms1701

Cookies and Cream Rating: 16+ and up please 🙏🏼

Settled

One of the things you don’t think you would ever get used to about living in these underground bunkers was just how cold it could get.

A constant temp of 50 something degrees in the summer. Or well…what used to be called summer. With the Kraang invasion and what not, the stupid aliens messed with your seasons in their attempt to make the Earth atmosphere more like their heralded “Dimension X.”

It wasn’t the only thing the stupid pink buggers had messed with besides the obvious glaring fact that they were attempting mass Earthen genocide and planetary colonization and what not.

No, the Kraang had a nasty habit of being unfairly unpredictable. Which made sense because they were, you know, aLiEnS. Aliens who had no need of following humans preferred sense of having at least SOME semblance of structure. 

That unpredictability was causing its fair share of grief across the entire Resistance. Aliens, you had decided, had certainly lost their “awe factor”  the minute they started to decimate the planet and permanently engrain “Raph Chasms” on every single face you passed.

A heavy disgruntled sigh escaped you at that thought, one face in particular coming to your concerned mind. A face who’s brow was often furrowed with the weight of said Kraang unpredictability.

One face that you had not seen all day even though he had promised to come to bed earlier just once he had finished planning for an upcoming Kraag ambush he was leading. 

He had promised you that. 7. Hours. Ago. 

You hated that that had become his norm of late. Granted, you knew that he had always struggled with insomnia, but usually if you smiled at him just right and caught him sitting down, you could get him to snuggle in close and at least take a nap. 

Now though? You weren’t sure the last time you had even seen him with his eyes closed for more than a minute or two. It was almost to the point that his sleep hours were rivaling Donnie’s due to how miniscule and spaced out they were. It was starting to worry you. Even more so than usual. 

You let out a soft hum of thought at that and shifted your feet in the direction of where you had left him last. Looks like desperate times really did call for desperate measures.

So with a plan of action once again set into play, you just shook your head wearily, tightened the worn blanket around your shoulders as your shield against the chilly bunker air, and marched off to find your stubbornly still awake man.  

After wandering the ever puzzling interlocking halls and bunkers, you finally found him exactly where you had left him: stone faced with that ever deepening Raph Chasm on his brow with his gaze hyper-focused on the paperwork laid out in a heap in front of him.

His hand anxiously rubbed his chin, one that you had absently noticed that he had grown into rather nicely through out the years. While he forever seemed to face each day with his “devil may care” kind of attitude, you could see the way his eyes constantly flicked around. His movements only emphasizing the fact as he seemed more…agitated than usual, lacking that oh so signature lithe agility that always seemed to accompany him. 

You stepped up to the doorway frame, a small frown pursing your lips as you watched him mutter to himself, pacing around the table in thought as though his nerves would never let him settle. Resting your shoulder against the frame of the doorway as a support, you wrapped the blanket more snugly around your shoulders, pulling the fabric in a slowly tightening fist as you watched Leo with an ever deepening “Raph Chasm” of your own. 

Ever vigilante, always watching, ever the ninja lying in wait. It was only in these small private moments when you could see the facade of bravado fall and the religiously clandestine truth finally rise to the surface. 

It was a truth. A statement of unchanging fact that was never to be eroded with time.

Leo never settled.

He really was never one to stay still. A line used from an old videogame you used to play, would often come to mind when you watched him pace like this: “The Endless Spirit of Timeless Unrest” or however it went.

Part of you wondered if this…ansgty unrest… was because he genuinely cared for these missions. Or if it was more of some desperate attempt to try and redeem himself for what he considered was his unforgivable sin.

Yes, Leo never settled. 

Well…at least until now. 

You smirked softly at that thought and adjusted in the doorway, taking a step forward as you softly called out.

“Leo.”

Hm. Nothing.

“Leo.”

Still nada. He had moved at least, this time his hands coming to brace either side of the table as he all but hunched over the strategy plans like some geriatric gargoyle. 

“Leonardo Hamato.”

Interesting. Even the full name had no response. Leo must really have been in the zone if not even the full seven syllables could grasp his attention. This was more serious than you thought. Looks like it was time to pull out the big guns.

“Oh Husband~...”

Leo’s head shot up at the gentle croon of your voice with a speed that you could have sworn would have popped a blood vessel, his eyes immediately zoning in on you in the doorway.

He snapped to attention, immediately stretching to his full height as his body went tense at the perceived danger at the sound of your voice. Your eyes immediately followed the movement, watching as the body of intimidation, the weapon of the “Greatest Ninja in the World” literally rose in front of you.

You would never breathe a word of it, never in a million years, but such a look directed at you from Leo always made you feel like a chicken being circled by a fox.

Something of a dance of death, a toying tease as you awaited with baited breath for the inevitable strike. It was only for a moment, it was always only just for a moment, but it admittedly would make you freeze, have your stomach clenching, at the intense look in his eye.

You knew Leo would never hurt you. Well, at least not until recognition flicked across his gaze. 

He just stared at you with that ever impenetrable gaze before shifting into his more familiar dastardly delicious, one sided, smirk that forever seemed plastered onto his face. Except this time, the smirk was a little bit more sheepish, looking the picture of a naughty child with their hand stuck in the proverbial cookie jar. 

Leo was caught. You knew it. He knew it. And he knew that now you were here, there was no chance of getting out of it. 

So Leo did what Leo always does, turned on that signature “Face Man Charm”  to try and slip out of trouble. In a voice that just happened to be a little bit lower and perchance a hint more sensual than normal, Leo all but purred out, ”Oh hey~ Didn’t see you there. What’s up?”

Your eyebrow quirked up at the sound of the attempted burr in his voice, and you couldn’t help but shake your head with an amused roll of your eyes. Keeping the blanket wrapped snugly around your shoulders, you pushed yourself off from the door frame and sauntered forward till you reached Leo’s side. Placing one hand on your hip, you looked up at him with a soft smirk and quipped off a dry reply, “Obviously. What’s up is you apparently. Do you have any idea how late it is?”

Leo blinked owlishly at you for a moment before he let out a very confident, “Uhhhhh…n-no?” 

The flat look you shot at him at his very convincing reply, had him wincing slightly. Your arms came up to fold exasperatedly around you with a small cock of your hip. Leo’s eyes flicked to your body with the motion, and he wouldn't meet your eye, choosing to instead shoot you another sheepish smile and nervously rub the back of his neck. When he saw that you were not having it, Leo’s smile dropped, and he held both of his hands up placating with a heavy sigh.

“Look, you don’t even need to say anything. I know. I know I promised, I’m sorry Love, but I just really need to have this all hammered out before-”

“Abepbep, let me stop you right there, Cowboy.”  

You didn’t even let Leo finish before you raised a hand to cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips. The motion obviously surprised Leo, all with the face touching, being a red-eared-slider and what not, effectively shutting him up for the time being. You tried to bite back a smirk at the thought of using Leo’s own biological behaviors against him to assert dominance in the moment, but hey, desperate times called for desperate measures and whatever. 

You looked up at him and slowly shook your head, letting out a sad chuckle as you reached out to gently slide your hand over his cheek, down his arm until you could finally capture his hand. Maintaining eye contact with him, you slowly curled his hand into a fist and held it snugly over yours. Slowly raising it up so you could press a soft kiss to the back of his knuckles, murmuring softly into the cool skin.

“Boy, you are just as bad as Donnie. I figured if you weren’t coming to bed, I’d just bring bed to you instead.”

Now Leo was never one to lose his cool; it was something he was actually rather proud of, keeping his head in the heat of the moment and what not. But there was something about the way that you looked up at him, holding and kissing his hand like that, that got him feeling some kind of way.  

He tried to resist, he really did, but admittedly he was getting kind of tired and he maaaaay or may not be somewhat distracted by the way the blanket looked so invitingly wrapped around you and how his loose shirt was beginning to slip, showing off the delicate and smooth curve of your shoulder.

Leo cleared his throat and quickly turned his head, a muscle thumping in his jaw as he tried to hide the sudden warmth that was heating up his cheeks. He stammered out, his voice soft and apologetic as he lowered his hand with yours.

 “Look, Love, I-I can’t…”

At hearing Leo’s quiet and hesitant denial, your heart sank, and suddenly the bunker just felt that much colder. He really was serious about this, and you didn’t think anything you could say or do in the moment would change his mind. 

You continued to look up at him searchingly, his hand still being held tightly with yours as you watched with growing worry at the way his eyes creased on the side, at the hollowness found there and the furrow further deepening on his brow.

Sure, he wasn’t going to change his mind, but that didn’t mean you were going to let him keep standing on duty like this. Not if you, as a good wife, had anything to say about it. 

Shaking your head with a small huff, you reached up with your one free hand to adjust the slipping blanket, not wanting to let go of Leo with the other now that you had his attention, and took a step back tugging Leo along.

“Oh very well, you can still work, but at least come sit down. It’ll help you get a new angle at least.”

Leo stumbled slightly with the tug, blinking in surprise that you had even gotten him to move. He must have been more tired than the both of you had previously thought. But he just fondly rolled his eyes with a small sigh of his own, reaching behind him to swiftly grab his papers before you dragged him off to who knows where.

“Goodness! So bossy.”

Leo all but chortled to which you respond with a dry chuckle, playfully shooing Leo backwards until his legs hit the back of a couch that had been left in the corner of the room. Without giving him a chance to recalibrate, you all but shove him down onto said couch, and plopped down next to him to prevent any chance of escape. To further ensure your snare, you unwrapped the blanket and gently shifted it until it was resting on top of the both of y’all, effectively nestling y’all under the fabric together. 

You chuckled with a shake of you head as you pulled your legs up onto the couch and turned so you could nestle into Leo’s side with a soft smirk, gently slapping his plastron.

“Maybe, just a little but that's because your stubborn arse won't listen to anything else. Now be a good husband and put your arm around me.”

It was turn for Leo’s eyebrow ridge to raise at the slight demand, and he just chuckled softly, obliging you as he lowered his arm around your shoulders to pull you close to his plastron.

“Yes Mrs. Hamatoooo.” 

You rolled your eyes at the slight whine in his tone with a soft huff and squirmed a little to get more comfortable. To do so, and to just cover all your bases in making sure Leo was NOT going anywhere, you lazily threw your arm over Leo’s waist and snuggled in close. You nuzzled your nose against his plastron with a soft mutter as sleep began to already encroach on the corners of your mind now that you were next to him.

“Well someone has to keep you humble.”

Leo looked down at you in surprise as you wrapped your arm around him, that all too familiar heat beginning to crawl up his cheeks. You really were a little Mrs. Feisty Pants weren't you? Not that he minded or anything. It was honestly one of the things he adored about you, being able to call him out like that and doing so in such a way that always made him feel like a million bucks. Still, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to you actively and consistently reaching out for him like this.

He couldn’t hold back the soft smirk that inched across his face as he saw the sleepy expression cross yours and before he had even realized he had even done it, found himself leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Good, I’d miss it if you ever stopped.”

You let out a small snicker at that, your nose wrinkling at the brush of his lips against your crown and reached up to cover Leo’s face with your hand, playfully pushing him away.

“Shhhhh shhh baby, it’s sleepy time.”

Leo chuckled at your pet name, and you could feel more than hear the rumble against you ear as you all but lean up against his chest. He slowly rubbed a palm up and down your blanket covered arm before leaning to press another absentminded kiss with a soft mumble.

“Naw, it’s time for you to get some sleep, Love. I still have some work to do.”

You let out a small grunt at that, your face scrunching in a small pout as you instinctively tightened your arm around his waist, your hand coming to mirror his as it slowly stroked up and down the side scutes of his plastron.

“Fiiiiiine…just…don’t stay up too late, mkay?”

Leo’s smirked softened at the obvious worry and displeasure in your tone and the feeling of affectionate tenderness grew as he watched your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks as you vainly tried to stay up. His hand continued its slow trek against your arm, and his voice dropped into a sacred whisper, not wanting you to stay up any more than you have to.

“Don’t worry Love, I won't.”

So back to work Leo went. Er…at least tried to. There was just one teeny tiiiiiny itsy bitsy wee little factor that was preventing him from doing so. 

Work. Was not working.

Leo’s brain could be described to something akin to an egg on the summer concrete the way it felt so fried. Nothing was clicking. Even the “new angle” as you so called it, was not helping in the slightest. Shell, he’d be staring at this page for so long that the words had started to swim like little black fish between his eyes. 

A hand came up to slowly drag down the length of Leo’s face accompanied with a most exhausted sigh. Yeah, he wasn’t getting anywhere with this tonight.

As if to emphasize said point, like the Universe itself was trying to grab his attention, Leo’s tympanum was caught by the subtle sound that had begun to escape from your parted lips as you all but lounged against his plastron. Leo blinked in surprise at the feeling of the heavy -laded breath that brushed across his chest before his lips curled up into a soft smirk at said sound. 

A sound that could only be described as a snore. Just a light little thing, more of a exhale of air than an actual sound. But it was the fact that you only snored when you were completely out of it.

Leo chuckled softly at the thought as he placed his paperwork onto the ground next to the couch and with his now free hand, curling a knuckle to gently knock your chin up so as to prevent you from drooling against him. It wouldn't be the first time.

Your face instantly scrunched up into a small frown at the displeasure of having something touch you in your sleep, and you instinctively raised a hand to swat against the unseen foe. Letting out a disgruntled little mumble, you shifted against Leo’s side, curling into him as if to try to hide your face against the intrusion. 

Leo’s smirk softened with fond amusement at your decidedly very grumpy face. You were always just so expressive, even in sleep, and he would never tire from trying to memorize each and every face that you would make. Even if he had to be a little turd at times to do so.

Still, you must have not minded, not really, not if you had continued to stick around like you did. Even going as far to marry this poor sap of a turtle he’d become.

He didn’t understand it, and he supposed that he never really would. Understand the fact that you could drop all walls and just fall asleep so quickly next to him without even a second thought. Mikey had said something in passing once that people only fell asleep in places where they felt safe or secure. And Leo, for the life of him, couldn’t fathom what he had done that made you feel safe enough to do so around him. 

Acting on pure instinct, Leo couldn’t help but reach up from where his hand had rested against your jaw to instead lightly trace between your brows, trying to ease the tension that had formed there with a gentle massage of his thumb. Watching with satisfaction at how with each stroke across your brow and cheek line, your eyelashes fluttered and you all but further slumped into his hand, the tension leaving you with a soft sigh.  

While your brow smoothed, Leo’s own brow furrowed, and his hand went still while cupping your cheek.

How on earth could you feel safe? How could you still reach out for him, still care about him, after everything he had done?

He was the reason that the entire world was in this mess, the reason behind every “Raph Chasm” on the faces of the people who passed by, and why you couldn’t sleep soundly anymore unless he was there. 

You and his brothers had told him repeatedly that what had happened wasn’t his fault, that there were more pieces at play then he could have ever handled. Despite all the reassurances, all the never ending support and dedication, it was in these still quiet moments, Leo found himself being haunted by the shadows of his own consuming demons. 

This was his fault.

All of this was his fault. 

And yet despite this, despite all the destruction and heartache his stupid stupid pride and self ego had caused, you still wanted him. You still could stand to even be in his presence, to still care and call him friend.

Enough so that you had…you wanted…you asked if he wanted…would be willing to create a future with you.

Leo’s breath hitched softly at the thought as he looked down at you, curled up so tightly against him, sleeping peacefully at his side like everything was right in the world now that you were close to him.

The realization that THAT is what you felt about him made his hand begin to tremble slightly against your skin. 

Not wanting the chance of his shaky hand to disturb your slumber, Leo quickly slid his hand from your face, back to cup your shoulder instead, thoughts of any previous failures or work fading away the instant he could feel the warmth of your body through the blanket underneath his hand, grounding him instantly into the present.

Feeling that warmth, that comforting and grounding weight, Leo suddenly decided that while you were close sitting by his side like this, you weren’t close enough.

He wanted more, wanted more of you. 

Moving ever so carefully, only as a well seasoned ninja could, Leo gently wrapped both of his arms around the back of your shoulders as he slowly fell backwards onto the couch, pulling you in tow until you were resting on top of him, laying flush upon his plastron.

The sudden shift of positions had you stirring from sleep, causing you to let out a soft questioning hum as your head blearily raised from Leo’s chest. 

Leo acted instinctively not wanting you to awake and to possibly see the unbidden moisture that had begun to form in his eyes, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head and gently push it back down to strategically rest against above his heart. 

“Shhh shh, it's just me Love, just me. I’m finally going to get some sleep now. You ok with being my weighted blanket for a little bit eh?” 

Not waiting or really wanting a response, Leo’s hand came up to gently card his fingers through your hair in long smooth strokes, hoping to soothe you back into sleep. He watched with satisfaction as your eyes began to flutter close again and you let out a soft appreciative hum, resting more heavily against him into his hand. He couldn’t help but smirk softly at the feeling. Everybody had their happy spots, he supposed.

Leo could understand why. He knew that you tried your very best to take care of you tresses as best as one could during an alien invasion. But what he didn’t know was what woman magic you wielded here during the apocalypse that still made your hair silky smooth as it was. It was so soft. You were so soft.

His hand absentmindedly ran over the curve of your back and shoulders, always amazed at the slight give of your skin against the pressure of his hand. It made him think of how you were always giving, in every way you could. To him, to the rest of the Resistance, to every single soul who had the privilege of coming into contact with you. Such softness and warmth couldn’t be contained, to the point that it was engraved upon every inch of your delicate frame. 

Being a good-for-nothing ninja turtle, who was created literally to be a weapon, a tool, Leo didnt think he'd ever get the opportunity to be soft with someone with someone like this. Have the chance to take comfort in someone else’s body and presence, or have someone take comfort in the likes of him.

And yet here you were, resting on top of him, locked within the protection of his arms, sleeping as soundly as a babe. 

It surprised him even in the beginning of y’alls relationship. It still surprised him to this day because Leo, didn’t think he deserved anything good. Not ever again.

Leo looked down at you. If it were not for the heat and the comforting weight of you on top of him, he was pretty sure that he was dreaming. But for once, it wasn't a dream. Wasn't just a passing wish. No, you were here. You were really here. And that was all that mattered. 

Cradling you closer with one arm wrapping around your shoulders, Leo pulled you protectively flush up against his plastron. His other hand coming to gently dig his fingers through your hair at the back of your head, cradling you close enough that he could press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

His lips lingering over your skin as he absentmindedly peppered slow kisses on your crown and hair at random intervals whenever the affectionate urge hit, indulging in the tenderness that only comes out in these small moments.

Leo would fight any number of Kraang, plan as many ambushes as needed, and take any and every single chance if it meant he could keep you close like this.

Maybe, just maybe. For this one moment, he could let go. Leo could believe in good things again, he could believe in life, settle down and just appreciate this little tender moment with you.

Special thanks to my Beloved L’appel du Vide and @anobodyinabog for being my beta readers!

As well as a shout out to @firefly-graphics for the beautiful dividers!

Howdy Friends! I updated my "A Little Ninja's Mission" story a wee bit and put it on Archive of our own. Here's the link if you wanna check it out.

Well Hay Howdy Hay folks! Thanks for the callout @ninjagirl0913 I’m excited to give it a try!

Favorite Color: Greys, specifically that dark and heavy grey you get right before a desert thunderstorm.

Last Song: Uhhhhhh…*goes and looks at Spotify* I hear A Symphony by Cody Fry

Currently Reading: ASITD by the ever talented @sophiacloud28 and TATYTB by the beloved bestie @secretthoughtsofashootingstar and O’Medusa by @naffeclipse

Currently Watching: THE CHOSEN! PLEASE IF ANYBODY’S WATCHED THIS, I NEED A BUDDY TO RANT TO ABOUT IT IM LITERALLY BEGGING. THE SYMBOLISM AND FORESHADOWING IS NUTS 🤯😖🙏🏼 Oh and I’m also about to start Andor so excited for that

Currently Craving: Pickles. And Lemon Salmon with Capers apparently. I’m literally making it as we speak the cravings were so bad

Coffee or Tea: I don’t drink either, but if I had to choose, I do enjoy Celestial Seasonings: Bengal Spice or Rasberry Zinger

Calling out the buddies if they wanna join besides those already listed! @saspas-corner @anobodyinabog @canipleasegetthenumber15 and @avery73

get to know your moots tag game ! ✶ answer the questions, then tag six people

favorite color ꕀ green and brown last song ꕀ tú by maye currently reading ꕀ the luminaries by susan dennard currently watching ꕀ the great british baking show currently craving ꕀ massaman curry. like always. and like. alcohol and a couple cigs HAHA. a break too :P coffee or tea ꕀ always tea! i don't like coffee

ty for the tag @saltcxrcle ! tagging: @lelapine @toadspondofwhimsy @outof-spite @h0neyst4rz @hhoneylemon @our-lady-of-venom

LADIES AND GENTS : THEY MAY HATE THE PAST AND THEY MAY HATE THEMSELVES BUT THEY HATE BULLIES EVEN MORE!!! PLEASE GIVE A WARM AND DRAMATIC WELCOME TO PAAM!

like y’all you have no idea how much them all getting together to defend Casey just gives me life. Once a dad, always a sad 😆🙌🏼💙

I’m having too much fun with this concept lmao

I do indeed dare. Get loved punk. Get absolutely friggin appreciated, you little treasure you 🧡

Hey *holds up hands placatingly* I firmly believe in the phrase “if you see something, say something” and let’s just say I saw something in you. Do with that what you will, but nobody’s gonna stop me. Mama’s got the gift of gab and by golly she’s gunna use it! NoNe oF yOu ArE sAfE! I SHALL APPRECIATED YOU ALL BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Howdy Friend!

I just wanted to say how happy I am to see you on my dashboard again. I didn’t realize how much I missed your art and your delightful little comics until I saw them again. Sometimes when I’m having a bad day, I like to stalk your blog and just relook at all your art. It’s just simple and sweet, a style I very much enjoy because it ALWAYS manages to make me smile. I understand life happens and that being creative can be difficult sometimes, so I really appreciate it so much when you are feeling up to share with us what ever is in your beautiful mind.

Again, just so so so glad to see you back. Missed you something fierce and I sincerely wish you the best of all luck in this new year. May all the good you do come back to you and please don’t forget how much you are loved! 🧡🙏🏼

Like.... how dare you be so sweet.

Very glad that my arts still brings you some joy, it means a lot to me ❤ I sometimes cringes at what I used to do in the past but remind myself that past me was proud of what she did cuz she did it with love and passion and better than yesterday. And the fact fact that some of you are still going through my stuff is amazing. Thank you so much.

It hasn't been... a productive year. But I wanna don't wanna stay on that note, I don't want my passion to die! I'll keep at it cuz I love drawing silly stuff and turtles hehe!! You do it too! All of you, the year just begin. Let's give our all silliest!! Haha!

Bad Boys

Yeah, I like bad boys.

Bad Boys like Anakin Skywalker who rebelled against the “Non Committal Attachment Styles” of his day was defiant by getting married and having a family. Yeah, that kind of bad boys.

🚨PAY ATTENTION 2 DIS🚨

GUYS GUYS GUYS!!! EVERYBODY SHUT UP (affectionately) AND LOOK AT THIS!

LOOK. AT. IT

I GOT A COMMISSION FROM THE PHENOMENALLY TALENTED @nikaserb !!

Yall really ought to go check out her page and give her the love and attention she deserves because she drew one of MY besties with one of her favorite characters! And look LOOK at how absolutely darling she made them both look!

Like AH! You really captured their personalities through the dynamics of their poses and expressions. Not to mention I’m also in love with the lighting! It’s so warm and wholesome that I can’t help but just grin like a fool looking at it.

AND BECAUSE ITS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE IT SO, ALL Y’ALL GOTTA LOOK AT IT TOO!

Thank you thank you again for blessing me and my eyes with your incredible talents @nikaserb you truly have a gift of making art just feel real because there’s just a way you capture life and vibrancy that’s honestly breathtaking.

AI only WISHES it could be this good because lemme tell ya, this is the REAL deal!

I can’t wait to surprise my friend with this. May she suffer with all the love and affection this day. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA 😈😆🙌🏼🧡

My reactions after reading this

Makes me think of a poem from a friend actually🤔

Vent piece, AU, Rise Leo, Angst

It’s cold in here. Even in pants, sneakers, and a hoodie, the chill of the planetarium still eats at him a little. He’s okay with it, though. It’s not quite enough for brumation, which is the important part. He doesn’t need to completely lose track of everything. He just needs… peace.

And, as he lies across the floor while staring up at the star-covered ceiling, he’s sure he’s found it. He’s certain that, if only for a moment or two, he is finally allowed to rest. Finally able to think of something else than his work, his constant running around, his never-ending parade of personas. Hell, he can almost feel himself drift into nothingness as the light music he hears cradles him to near sleep.

It's always nice, always comfortable, always –

He blinks as he hears rustling. Someone sits in a chair in front of where he’s lying on the floor. And while he wants to call it an accident, his nostrils tell him it's not.

The scent of subtle soap and warm skin. The rustle of pants as legs are crossed and brought apart again. The chair squeaks at the attempt to settle in it, but nervousness is keeping its current occupant from getting comfortable.

He wishes he could say the same. Unfortunately, the cold has a good grip on him and while he’s not brumating, he definitely feels sluggish.

Not that you’ll attack him. You have no way to defend yourself save for a can of pepper spray — the thing smells absolutely vile — and from the presentations he’s seen you give, you don’t have a mean bone in your body, which just… helps.

“Want to stay for the video?”

The thing that impresses him is the way you’ve just… made this look as casual as possible while letting him know several things.

One, you know he’s there. How you caught him when he always takes for the grates the second you have a new group is a mystery — there’s hours, a schedule, and he’s got it all down — but you did. Second, you’ve known for a while. The lack of inflection in your tone indicates experience and redefines your nervousness as one of casual approach. Three, … he just wants to turn his brain off. He wishes he couldn’t understand or care about how an employee knows about his presence and hasn’t called the authorities yet. He knows he could deal with them, certainly if he were a little warmer, but this? This goddamn circus? He’s here to get off work, not…

He sighs. Shuffles. He owes you an answer. He just…

“Knock on the back of my seat for a yes.”

He looks up, away from the stars to you. Your back is facing him, then again he’s in a weird position that puts his head near the seat. He could say nothing, not even knock and watch you squirm. He could crack a joke, say something that might make you laugh or groan as he attempts socializing.

But right now… he just can’t be assed.

He reaches up and knocks against the plastic. You just say thank you and stay there for a bit longer before you get up to rummage for something near the projector. There’s shuffling in the chair you were just seated in before he hears you take off for the doors.

Time for the next group. He wonders if he should stay. If he should do what he usually does and skedaddle before anyone notices there’s a bum on the floor. But when everyone steers clear of the seat, therefore him, he has to wonder what’s going on. What you did to manage it so that, when the lights fade out and he hears rustling, he knows it’s you.

You don’t speak. The video is a speaking one after all. It does make him wonder, though. Even long after the video’s done and he’s left to stare at the stars again, he wonders what just happened and if he should care. He’s not complaining, though, not after getting to finally see the visuals, albeit from an interesting angle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It doesn’t stop him from returning, either.

It’s been a week. He’s debated whether or not it’s worth risking his neck, his family’s neck over someone knowing he’s using the planetarium as his way to relax. He’s wondered if he shouldn’t tell the fam, or at least his little brother, to make sure it’s safe.

But that would mean letting everyone know. That would mean having to deal with that mess and he honestly… doesn’t want to.

He's tired. He’s done. His brothers, even his dad, have completely drained him dry of anything he could remotely care about. So he goes without hesitating.

He navigates lunch hour and watches the shift change. He flinches as your loud coworker laughs and jokes, reminding him of himself in the most obnoxious way. So much so that he half-wants to punch them for being so annoying. He waits on the floor instead, though, and is grateful when you join him the second they leave, leaving him to knock on your chair.

This behavior is more befitting his twin. He doesn’t care.

“Sorry for that. For what it's worth, the next group should all be teenagers, so no crying children.”

He knows. Presentation hours are for classes. Field trips. And while you don’t necessarily struggle during them, depending on the class, it can get disgustingly loud. Even when teenagers are involved.

He knocks on the chair again. You laugh a little before sighing, “I’m sorry I have to ask you to go. I am getting a break later on, though. If you want to stick around until then, I’ll be happy to show you some interesting features.”

And the tridactyl hand he’s been using to knock on your seat grips his hoodie as he thinks, debates.

He shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. No matter how innocent you are, the mere knowledge of who he is could ruin your existence and his. He’s not here to make friends.

… But the company is nice.

His hand hesitates for a second longer before he knocks. You then hush him away and he goes to the vent where he watches you work and barely get to breathe when you get two classes back to back. And he quietly lets himself in after all the hubbub, laying on the floor as you sit with a breath into the chair he knocks on.

The fact that it gets him a chuckle almost makes him smile. The fact that hears you tap the seat next to you worries him.

“Come on. Best seat in the house,” you tell him, though, and while it doesn’t convince him, it does make him move, make him join you even as the seat creaks under his weight. It has him making sure that you can’t see his face or his hands as he sits next to you. Not that you seem to care, though, as your eyes are fixed on the ceiling and your hands fiddle with a small contraption you immediately bring forward and click on once he’s there.

The lights turn off. The domed ceiling goes from evening to night, showing the stars. And, with another click, lines start drawing themselves across the artificial sky, connecting the stars into groups and images slowly appear, making him blink.

Constellations. He’s heard you talking about those. But thanks to the light pollution, the most he’s been able to spot are the brightest stars and, if he’s lucky, the Summer Triangle. Now, he’s finally able to see them.

He almost gets up. He doesn’t. The moment feels too sacred to break. You seem to notice the shift, though, as he can hear you smile when you speak.

“This is the Greek one, which was eventually taken over by the Romans. There are more, though. The Babylonians had an incredible star chart they left behind, explaining what they saw and why it was important to them. The Mayans had one also, and it's been suggested that other Central American cultures might have either used the same map or had their own variations to it. The most interesting one, though, is the Asian one. Western influence was scarce, so their system works very differently even today."

… Ah. He gets it, now. It's almost funny, too, and enough to make him smile. Make almost reach out in the hopes that you understand that you either don't need to share or that he's grateful. He can't do either, though. No matter how much the world wants to think that there's space for everyone, the fact that he's underground, that the Hidden City exists tells him otherwise. He can't let himself do anything but speak, and breaking the silence feels like blasphemy.

"… Thank you."

He still does it, though. Not for his sake but yours. You need to know he appreciates it, even if some of it is going completely over his head.

"No problem."

Because it's worth the softness that invades your tone. Even if it requires more effort than he has energy for, the payoff gives him just a little more than he thought he'd be given. And he likes that. God, does he.

"Anything you want to see?"

"The star map without the images?"

Because if this is all it takes to get this to work as you click and the images disappear, then he's more than willing to try.

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Unfortunately, winter does not seem to agree.

Brumation becomes a problem. His hoodie is no longer enough, but wearing anything else might hinder his movements in the vents. He can't afford to lose the agility, but he knows that, if he's not careful, he might knock out.

Something you seem to notice as well.

Within a month of winter starting, he finds a blanket waiting outside the vent. His careful thanks only get him even more wrapped inside the surprisingly thin yet cozy fleece blanket as you fuss over him while never once looking up as he's asked you to. It doesn't help that every time, you simply smile after he tells you that he's comfortable, tapping a hand against his plastron.

"Good. Wouldn't want you to pass out."

Which only reminds him of what he's doing and how… he's treating this entire relationship.

No doubt you're getting bored. Annoyed, even. Not that you've told him as such and he doubts he'd ever hear you complain, but he doesn't think he's being fair in any way, certainly considering that he's been keeping this up for weeks.

He doesn't hate you. He hopes you know that. It's just… he comes here when everything is just too much. And you pampering him… is just part of it, now.

"Hold?"

"Yeah."

You joining him on the floor between presentations as he buries his face into your side. Him whimpering, trying not to chirp or do anything that would sound remotely strange as he lets you talk about whatever planet has caught your attention or whatever paper you're working on this week. And you chuckling, even laughing sometimes as he does or tries to either give you advice or ignore you. It's all part of the thing that makes him feel a little better, a little stronger by the time he leaves. It's all part of something that makes him feel safe even if he barely says anything.

Because by the time he gets to you, there's nothing left for him to give.

The silence as his eyes burn almost deafens him. He feels you move and almost refuses to let you get away only to realize he's too weak, too slow thanks to the cold to hold onto anything. The cold, the sluggishness he'd fought so hard to find becomes his enemy as you disappear and reappear to help him up and out the doors, your blanket covering him up like a cloak to cover his face. And it's not any better when he steps outside and winter stakes its claim on him and the only thing he can concentrate on is your voice.

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The amount of research you have to ingest in the following hours is insane. You figured something of the sort was going to happen, certainly with how closed off he was being, but you'd hoped to avoid any catastrophe involving your new friend.

Alas, from the way he behaves, you should have called this. From his self-destructive behavior, you should have known that he would drive himself to hypothermia, leaving you to figure out how to sort this mess. And that unfortunately means no more secrets.

… You think it's hypothermia. When you see the green skin and the three-fingered hands, you're no longer sure. Certainly when he's not shivering and the only thing that helps are the red crescents near his eyes and under his blue mask.

Blue mask… Where the hell is he from? And does it matter when this is probably going to ruin your relationship? He thrives on secrets and you… Well, you just ruined a whole lot of that trying to save his life after he broke, didn't you?

Either way, he's safe. He'll be alright in a few hours. He just needs to get to a decent body temperature, which he is safely getting to while bundled up in your bed. He seems to have an internal body temperature, after all, just… one lower than yours.

Part of you worries as you try not to hover. The other knows better and simply keeps you busy with making dinner, and you can't be happier with the meal you chose as you let the pea soup simmer. You work on making something warm to drink along with it, too, hoping that he'll be okay with some Chai.

Then again, after an hour, you wonder if he'll be alright in general as you dare enter the room with the food and drink on a tray.

You can hear him breathing. That's much, much better than earlier. The fact that he doesn't really acknowledge you doesn't surprise you, either. If anything, the fact that he's looking at you as you set the tray down is the biggest anomaly. He doesn't follow you. He has too little energy to even begin caring, which you can't blame him for. So this — this is new. And concerning when he doesn't sit up upon seeing the food.

Guilt? A need to hide? The mask and the fact that you've never seen anything of him until now tell you it's the latter. He might not have had any energy, but he did keep you from something, likely only draining him further. It's why you hadn't fought him when he'd asked for your presence on the floor. He needs it, craves a presence he doesn't have to explain everything to. And you have been for the past three months. Something you find absolutely heartbreaking.

"I made some soup and chai. Hope you like it."

And more heartbreaking still is the way he grabs your wrist as you attempt to leave.

You turn to him. Let him pull at your wrist and have you sit on the edge of the bed. He does not let go, though, instead nearing you and settling against your back, curling up there with his shell to the door.

Even if he didn't refuse your offer of getting on your lap before you sit on your bed so that he can, you know it's for protection. It's not the first time he does it, either, even if it's completely unconscious. He cares. More than he lets you or anyone else know. And you're almost willing to bet that's what's breaking him.

He loves. He's just… so tied up in whatever else he has to do that it's not showing properly.

You carefully, sweetly touch his head, something he welcomes with a stretch of the neck and a quiet whimper. You smile as he relaxes, using your lap as a resting spot, and tears no longer in his eyes. He doesn't sleep, not quite, but he chirps, trills, and nudges your hand if you so much as stop petting him. Like a cat, he refuses to let you go until he's had his fill and you're honestly very much fine with it, certainly when, after enough coaxing, you manage to get him to sit and eat.

In fact, the only thing that bothers you is his phone the second it starts ringing, prompting you to fiddle with his hoodie and collect the phone to see who it is.

Another turtle. This one red and massive. Raph is the name on screen. Doesn't stop you from wanting to throw the phone across the room or shutting it down before you resume feeding and petting the one you know to be a slider.

They're supposed to be tolerant to cold. Resistant to brumation. You wonder how badly he's been worn down for this to happen. You also hate the fact that it's making you feel almost violently protective to the point where you want to lash out at the other turtle for treating your friend like this.

… Maybe you should have taken that call. Just to know his name. Then again, you don't want to ruin the trust between the both of you, no matter how little there is. He is at his weakest and he doesn't need to be tested further.

"You think you're up for a warm bath now that you've eaten?"

Besides, from the nod you feel against your shoulder, you have other ways to communicate with him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

He doesn’t fight you. He doesn’t do much of anything, actually, as you scrub him clean. He only blinks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time once you’re done. He only lets you help him out of the bath and halfway back to your room when his hand lets go of yours and he — he looks away as if caught doing something, being somewhere he shouldn’t be.

“Where — where’s my stuff?”

And you realize why very quickly.

“Your clothes are in the bathroom and your phone is in my bedroom.”

“… Did I… get a call?”

“You did. From someone called Raph. I didn’t pick up.”

He’s awake. He’s coherent. His brain has finally caught up.

“… I have to go.”

And his thoughts and words hurt more than you’re comfortable with.

“Go get your clothes, then. I’ll go grab your phone.”

He looks at you with doubt, but turns around and heads back. You enter your bedroom and collect the blue jacketed phone before walking back to the bathroom where the slider is slipping on his hoodie, having already worked through his pants. You set said phone on the sink where he can see it as he works on his shoes next, unsurprised to hear him soon babbling to someone about trackers and getting someone off his ass for something. What surprises you is the tone. It’s animated, filled with a dramatic drawl and flair you had yet to hear from the slider. It’s nothing like you’ve heard, and it makes you realize just why he’s so drained, certainly when you hear “big bro” from his lips.

You cover your mouth. Your eyes burn. He ends the call and leaves your bathroom before anything else can happen, though and, just from the smile that meets you, you know you can’t cry.

“I’m afraid I gotta go. Someone’s breathing down my neck and might break the building if I don’t get going.”

There’s no point in it, after all.

“I’m… sorry I kept you.”

“You’re fine, sweetheart. Things just happen you know?”

“I guess. Do you –?”

“I know my way out. No worries.”

You’ve already lost him.

He gets to your living room where he takes to your window instead of your door. You feel your face hurt as you watch him expertly jump onto the sill.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Will I see you again?”

And it near contorts in pain as you watch his face, his persona break for a second, an instant in which you get your answer.

No. You won’t. You will never ever see the slider again. He’s no longer safe with you, and it has nothing to do with you.

“We’ll see.”

You watch him jump away. You feel your heart break. And you wonder if you could have done anything differently… while knowing there was never another option.